


Healing a shattered mind

by SailorStarDust1



Series: Remake: Subtle [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake - Fandom
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Prompt Fill, Puppet Cloud Strife, SpringAwakening2019, Tiny nods to Zerith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-21 16:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18144467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1
Summary: #SpringAwakening2019:March 20th — New Beginnings and Hopes for Remake.Cloud Strife. A newcomer to the polluted yet bustling lower plate of Midgar's Slums. The relationships with the women in his life.





	Healing a shattered mind

**Author's Note:**

> This'll probably be my only submission for the CloTi event (since I have 2 other long fanfics I'm finishing ^_^; ) but I wanted to contribute _something_ , at least. My goal with this fic was to be as detailed as comfortably possible in tiny world-building moments. Overall, this is my own spin regarding the atmosphere I'd love **FFVII Remake** to have :)

That sprawling, densely smog-filled, metropolis known as the Slums might not have been much, but it was home. She huffed, having thankfully avoided clumsily tripping into a rain puddle. Such yucky weather the past few days.

The usual group of Shinra businessmen and gaggles of housewives seemed panicked about something in Sector 1. Business for her was slower than usual today, but smelling that smoke from a nearby explosion? The flower seller in pink bit her lip, thought of an attack unsettling.

Happily, she could easily breathe with unobstructed airways, so any destruction couldn’t be _too_ widespread. Mildly upset about whatever building “regulations” Shinra abruptly performed without informing the public, the young woman shook her head.

Shuffling the flower basket in the crook of her arm, it was probably best to head home. Sector 5. Mom had, most likely, already cooked dinner. Probably another vegetable stew, alongside whatever butchered meat their neighbors generously provided. With her bad luck, an exasperated yet ever polite Tseng had been invited in. He’d momentarily pause to admire their vegetable and flower garden along the gently streaming river in their front yard, before his routine down-to-business hopes pertaining to Aerith’s willing return to Shinra.

The Slum church flower garden and the Gainsborough’s private river, full of clear water they kindly allowed the neighbors to use whenever needed, certainly must’ve been blessings from nature. Miracles by those ancient humans essentially a forgotten page within dusty history books.

Aerith knew too well that things as they stood were simply biding time, ‘on the run’ from the company ever since age 7. Concern for her, any subtle disdain in his voice and narrowing eyes when mentioning Hojo, were merely Tseng’s kindness. Why he strictly ordered his Turks to keep the last Cetra under surveillance rather than bring her back to headquarters.

Sighing again, lost in her own thoughts, the flower girl was rudely bumped into. Falling backward towards a large puddle, a strong hand suddenly grabbed her wrist to steady her balance.

“Oh!”

Thankful she hadn’t lost any flowers from the basket, she dusted off her dress, smiling. Her smile offered as thanks to the blonde stranger froze in place. Momentarily, she was unable to blink due to that ice cold shock to her system. The sword was...?

“You alright?”

Those Mako-tinted eyes were absolutely unmistakable, at any rate. Remembering her manners, the flower girl’s now hesitant smile returned. Considering his uniform... _definitely_ a First Class.

“I’m fine.” Playfully leaning forward to get a closer look, her heart thudded, curiously intrigued by this mysterious potential customer.

“Umm, did something happen back there?” Nodding her head towards the direction the man arrived from, Aerith felt thankful the billowing smoke _finally_ dissipated towards the upper plate.

How sad. More pollution for their miserable city that never had a chance fully bloom in peaceful greenery, something that could calm the hearts of a weary, Shinra-controlled, populace.

“It’s nothing.” A resolute shake of his head, blonde locks unmoving in his eerily similar spiky hairstyle. If this Soldier had knowledge about what happened tonight, Aerith was none the wiser.

“Hey, listen…” The man looked about while kicking away a rusted can of...something...long past expired, hands on his hips. “You don’t see many flowers in this part of town.”

He was exhausted. His feet and shoulders were killing him, he had to meet up with Barret and the others...But, something about this pretty brunette who faintly smelled of the flowers she sold—as if her mysterious smile held the answers to something crucial—was intriguing.

It was almost...familiarity with an absolute stranger? Somehow, making idle conversation just felt like the right—natural—thing to do.

“Oh, these?” She lifted her basket to display sweet-smelling wares, violet lilacs, closer to his nose. “Do you like them? They’re only 1 Gil.”

Nodding underneath the dirty yellow lamp post illuminating his features, he reached for his wallet to complete the transaction. It was only December, not even spring. She either used _exceptionally_ good soil, or other magic besides that white pearl-colored Materia decorating her hair ribbon.

 _Perfect._ After all, he needed to offer her some form of thanks, a small gesture of kindness, for lining up tonight’s job. This solo mercenary business of his...had been slow lately, hadn’t it? Before their train station reunion.

Delicately holding the flower meant for Tifa, Cloud offered a sincere smile. “Thanks.”

“I should be thanking _you_.” Aerith replied, already walking off to make one last round before heading home for the evening. The uncanny similarities and sword...she had to get away from the handsome blonde Soldier, to process her confusion and anxieties.

All she could do was continue wondering while fearing the worst, utterly heartbroken.

Blissfully feigning ignorance of gentle whispers within her mind, stronger but nevertheless still faint when tending the church gardens. A nauseating kick to her gut, even now.

Those familiar azure eyes contrasted an unfamiliar, battle-hardened, face. _His_ sword.

_Do you know him? Do you know where he is? I don’t know if I should ask or not._

Her misty eyes brimming faintly, they caught the time on the nearby clock tower. She would repay kindness with kindness. “Oh, I almost forgot! If you’re looking to catch the next train, it’s arriving in a few minutes. You’d better hurry.”

The Soldier First Class offered an abrupt nod. “Good luck selling the rest of your stock.”

And with those words, the flower girl’s amused laughter trailed behind her. There was absolutely no way she would!

* * *

Another penetrating headache from the depths of his sinuses. Train chugging along to the Sector 7 Slums, his back flat against the baggage car’s cold steel.

A Shinra guard recognizing him hadn’t sparked any recognition of his own. Weird. Cloud’s head began aching too much, out of the blue and despite his prized purchase in hand. He couldn’t afford to fight them, jumping atop the already departed train about to pass him by.

Tempo too late to board normally, catching a causal ride as he did was simply his usual way of doing things...Wasn’t it?

Rhythmical engine chugging called to mind a heavy rainstorm’s pattering on a cloudless day...

* * *

Rain that simply wouldn’t let up. A guard dog sniffed his muddy boots, Cloud observed with dull gray eyes. His usual intense azure gaze, speckled with emerald Mako, drained of their color.

The bloodied and rusty Buster Sword, a nearly forgotten relic at the exhausted warrior’s side.

They weren’t far off from the silent, otherwise kindly, train station attendant. Cloud’s hand limply lay atop the dog’s head, canine cautiously licking this stranger’s sword-calloused fingers.

A moment’s patience before the man whistled for his obedient friend to return—happily obliging with wagging tail. No trains departed from Sector 7 today, but he still had to keep a dutiful eye. What could’ve possibly caused the attendant such sudden alarm and personal distance?

“…Ohh…”

All that blood covering the ex-Soldier. So much blood. Dried and stuck to his muddied uniform.

**_I’m waiting for you._ **

That glowing fuchsia eye matched the piercing white noise filling the blonde’s head.

**_Your mother is waiting._ **

A sweet sickness in his belly couldn’t be quelled. The intense urge to vomit away clammy skin, jolts of static frazzling his brain, intrusively mocking male laughter—ran painfully strong.

**_Come to me, Cloud._ **

The otherworldly eye radiated in fading mists of remembrance. 5 years ago. The only thing surrounding his line of vision with his back atop dirt, the heat of the flames singeing his face.

**_“…Mother, let’s take back this Planet together.”_ **

His own voice? Or...

**_“Good boy, you can hear me. Now, honor our Reunion.”_ **

Cloud slowly blinked. _Our…?_

“Ooh…Uh…Agh…”

**_That’s a good boy, Cloud. Fulfill your true purpose._ **

Cool disinterest and bloodied Masamune. The black-cloaked man glared hatefully at Cloud’s feet, crumbling village inferno their painfully bitter backdrop.

Solitude in those stifling flames. There wasn’t a place Cloud belonged to in this miserable world.

**_Won’t you join your brother? Our Reunion is near._ **

“Oouugh…”

“Cloud?!”

“Uh…uh…”

His name, right? The name given by his mother. She, too, lost amidst Sephiroth’s slaughter.

An outstretched hand. A deeply concerned—deeply familiar—face.

“Oh, Cloud! Are you alright?”

“…Tifa…?”

The warmth of another human, their fingertips brushing together before her—Tifa’s—hand took his own.

Gentle strength. As if the downpour and time itself, froze in place once their skin made contact.

* * *

_……You all right? Can you hear me?_

Maybe now, after several soul crushing years, his mental scars could _finally_ heal.

_Take it slow now. Little by little…_

Eyes shut, Cloud groaned loudly from the back of his throat. Strangely fatigued after another typical job, why did the train ride back “home” trigger his shattered memories?

This sudden voice _was_ comforting, but something about it... _I know. Hey…who are you?_

He ignored the sweat beading down his temple. Why couldn’t fragmented remembrances of a few days prior just evaporate, like that fallen rain when Tifa found him? When he spoke delirious nonsense, disheveled and caked in blood.

Not his own, oddly enough.

Just how long, Tifa later questioned in the upstairs loft above her bar, had he been wandering in this cold, wet, rain? Cloud was unable to provide an answer, still exhausted from whatever taxing battle he encountered. The Midgar outskirts...? It was no good. He simply couldn’t remember.

“Are you alright?”

Something soft dabbed his sweat away.

He slowly cracked open an eye. Jessie above him smiled, wiping his damp face clean with a handkerchief. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you get car sick.”

“Huh? No, uh.” He blinked twice. “I wouldn’t know _…_ I’ve never had motion sickness.”

Certainly not a First Class like himself!

“Hm. You might’ve been in Soldier, but even you get tired like the rest of us. Right?” Jessie sat next to him on the train car floor with her bright as sunshine smile, their shoulders bumping.

“If you’re lined up to do the next job, I promise I’ll make you a cool ID card.”

The next job? If Tifa still needed his help, surely he could stick around for a while longer.

“Nah, you don’t have to go through all that trouble. I’ll manage.” A thin smile, honest attempts at his cold demeanor cracking. At least around the fairer sex.

_“I got a place I can crash at for awhile. No wait, the mother lives there, too.”_

That’s right. Cloud couldn’t help himself but be flirty with the ladies.

“We _really_ appreciated your help back there.” Jessie’s now serious gaze stared straight ahead at something unseen. Whatever it was, something still tangible to her alone.

He stayed quiet, curious about the point she was making. But, if it was a heartfelt rallying cry to their cause...

“Tonight’s bomb schematics we recently discovered? I get it, it’s harsh to a former Shinra affiliate like yourself. But these extreme measures are the only way Avalanche can get the point across. Our families live in the Slums.”

Immediately, Cloud snorted. “I told you before, I have no love for Shinra.”

She smiled thinly. “My parents had me later in life, so they’re getting up there in years. Wedge helps look after his younger brother and Biggs has a sister. They’re both teenagers, just kids. It’s the familial ties in Avalanche that bound us to each other.”

Jessie continued, not considering that maybe she spoke out of turn. “Barret told us once, he lost his wife and best friend in his hometown, because of the Shinra. So, don’t think too badly of him just because he’s rough around the edges. You have to understand. Barret’s daughter—she’s only 4—means the _world_ to him. There’s something precious we all want to protect.”

“Look.” He sighed. “Whatever politics you guys have is your business alone. Right now, I can’t afford to be concerned with any of it.” It’s not that Cloud had a problem with the woman’s company. But, this situation ultimately _wasn’t his concern_.

Why couldn’t Barret and his buddies understand that?

Adjusting the loose bandanna across her forehead, Avalanche’s bomb expert openly laughed at his words. “Too cool for school? I’m telling you the reality of the situation, Mr. Ex-Soldier. You can’t fight without a reason, right?”

Cloud sighed again, shaking his head. “Seriously, don’t worry so much about what _I_ think. This is just another job to me. Temporary.” Maybe the direct approach would make her understand. He paused with his brows creased in frustration. Damn his inability to remember something so crucial! Where...was it again, that he had to return to?

“See, I…have to get back home.”

**_Very good, Cloud. Mother is waiting for you._ **

“You’ll see Tifa soon enough.” Standing, visible disappointment crossed Jessie’s face before she disappeared into the next train car. _He seems to be feeling better, but what’s eating at_ him _?_

* * *

The smokey bar in the Sector 7 slums, 7th Heaven, had finally closed up shop for the day. Scrubbing the counter-tops after running several loads of dishes in the dishwasher, Tifa was thankful. It had been an especially busy day of serving food and drinks to her customers while subtly keeping a watchful eye on the door, ensuring undercover Shinra employees weren’t snooping around for dirt on Avalanche.

Things between both organizations would come to a head soon enough, she felt, especially after tonight’s big news regarding Mako Reactor 1.

Frowning deeply, that was something the brawler couldn't take any pride in, once the television reports flooded in, regarding how widescale Jessie’s “experiment” literally blew up.

_How many innocent lives were caught in our statement tonight? Will Shinra retaliate, like they’ve done to so many small towns over the years? Like they did to Barret and Marlene’s home?_

“Hey, Tifa! We’re totally famished! You don’t mind cooking burgers for tonight’s victory, right? Cloud just _has_ to join our drinking party, too!”

Waiting by the secret elevator that lead the group to their base of operations—better than dealing with Barret’s well-intended scolding—Wedge was incredibly exhausted. He was completely unaccustomed to physically fighting government lackeys like their new friend, Cloud. But if it protected his little brother from the Shinra’s machinations, he’d grin and bear it.

“Cloud’s on his way. I don’t think he got lost or anything.” Jessie chuckled, grabbing a Potion from her utility belt to heal a wincing Wedge’s bruises. _Poor guy really pushed himself tonight._

A smirking Biggs, meanwhile, kept watch near the front entrance with crossed arms. “The guy’s pretty sarcastic, but I _definitely_ see why Barret agreed to his services. We could learn a thing or two from him.”

Tifa immediately perked up at the boisterous chatting of Jessie and company, offering a wink. She was bitterly self-aware that her usual gloomy ruminations wouldn’t solve a damn thing.

“If it isn’t my favorite customers! Need me to get your tabs started?”

Heavy footsteps answered her question, Barret glancing to and fro the empty bar, pleased. “Good.” It was Tifa who silently caught his nervous hand—his real hand—clench due to Marlene’s evident absence. “We’re startin’ the meeting now, but we’ll be up soon. Uh...”

Avalanche’s barmaid nodded towards the entrance, to outside, her smile warm. “Playing with her friends. Don’t worry.”

“Cool.” With a satisfied grin, he gestured for his team to head toward the secret base below. With Barret’s use of the elevator, the rest jumped down single file. Ragtag soldiers of their own making. A fighter like Cloud would be a powerful asset to their forces...if he decided to stay.

* * *

Ultimately, this was a new life for him, in a new town. A brand new beginning.

Arriving in Midgar about 3 days ago, the city—the Slums, at least—were a huge adjustment for a country boy like himself. Perhaps he’d get his bearings straight, soon enough.

Cloud opened the swinging door of the bar as Tifa’s kind voice immediately filled the air. The others nowhere in sight meant they used the pinball machine elevator to talk strategy downstairs. Unofficial Avalanche member he was, he wasn’t in the biggest hurry to join them.

“We’re closed for the day—Oh!” Greeting her old friend with the warmest of smiles, Tifa approached the ex-Soldier to offer a friendly pat on his uncovered shoulder. The rusted pauldron a First Class proudly wore suited him, though.

“Welcome back, Cloud.”

“Hey.” He grinned, carefully laying the Buster Sword against a vacant barstool before making himself comfortable. Offering her the undamaged flower, Tifa’s eyes immediately lit up.

“Oh, Cloud, it’s beautiful! Flowers are so rare in the Slums!” She inhaled the sweet lilac before filling an empty beer bottle with tap water. A makeshift vase. Crude, but it would do.

She smiled, knowing that little Marlene would be _delighted_ to see a real flower. Good thing she was playing tag with her neighbors to avoid any serious “grown up” talk.

“There was a flower seller in Sector 1. I was pretty surprised, myself.”

Despite greenery—trees, flowers, and wildlife—slowly fading away wherever a Mako Reactor was built, the outskirts of most villages were abundant in nature. Nature rapidly disappearing from their hometown was something Tifa couldn’t forgive Shinra for, personal grudges aside.

“How’s business, Tif?” Cloud nursed the beer she offered, truly savoring that bitter amber liquid.

“Fine as usual.” With crimson cheeks and a shake of her head, she laughed. “But we’re not kids anymore. Just ‘Tifa’ is fine.”

He chuckled lowly, teasingly raising his bottle in a mock toast. “Take a load off and join me. You’re finally off the clock, aren’t you?”

Chocolate bangs blown out of her face, she was thankful. Another day of dealing with rowdy patrons was in the books. At least they tipped well because her ample bust size and casual clothing. Anyone foolish enough to attempt coping a feel was immediately—quite literally—kicked out of her establishment. “You’re right.”

Fixing herself a glass of Corel wine—naturally, approved by Barret—she joined Cloud at the customer’s side of the bar, stretching her exhausted limbs. “Ugh, my butt’s killing me!”

Cloud quietly sipped his beer, gaze momentarily lowering to her tank top in silent appreciation.

His eyes caught hers during the subtle return to her face, Tifa staring back in confusion. Her relaxed smile was unwavering as always. Did she not notice? Or maybe...she didn’t mind the attention from him? “Hm? Something wrong?”

“Nah.”

Her well toned muscles and abs—keeping physically fit _and_ strong enough to stop lowlives in their tracks—was admirable. Then again, _everything_ Tifa did was impressive to him, from fuzzily recalled childhood snapshots of their growing up next door to each other. A beautiful sunny day, her bedroom window was open during daily piano practice. Her relaxed playing gently wafted in his room. Cloud sat on his bed with heavy history textbook in his lap, enjoying the gentle breeze and Tifa’s music. One distinct memory held dear to the heart.

“With all the martial arts training you did as a teenager, you _really_ should’ve joined Soldier, too.”

She grew up to be truly stunning. 5 years apart from his childhood friend far too long.

“Not this again.” Tifa snorted, now drinking a little too fast. “You _remember_ how I feel about all that, right? Being the first woman in their ranks wouldn’t have been any sort of honor for me!”

“Well, you could easily kick  _my_ ass anytime, at least—”

She raised an eyebrow while her old friend realized too late the implications of his statement.

“ _…_ Er.” _Real smooth, Strife._ With an unsure scratch to his head, Cloud downed his last swigs of beer. The label claimed it was an import from the Mount Nibel region. Honestly an impressive feat, if true!

“Thanks again taking on for tonight’s job.” Properly relaxed due to a pleasant chat and the  long day behind them, Tifa lazily rested her arms atop her counter-top. It shined so clear that one could see their face reflected back. Her heart swelled with pride to uphold her bar to such high standards. Ever since she inherited 7th Heaven from the previous—long deceased—owner, keeping things with a certain air of class was the least she could do for the kindly old man.

“No sweat.”

A slight noise caused his head to turn. At the bar entrance window were three giggling heads, not quite tall enough to see whatever was happening inside. Cloud rolled his eyes at the spying neighborhood children while Tifa chuckled, gesturing for Marlene and friends to go play.

“Reminds you of us when were we little, huh?”

“I want to say yes, but…” He frowned, shoulders at least no longer tense from the unease of being “spied” on. Despite the innocent nature behind the kids’ actions, he felt strangely uncomfortable. As if his personal space was violated. Feelings hard to explain to himself, let alone trouble Tifa with. “I can’t remember too much about our childhood.”

Tifa nodded in silent agreement, her own memory spotty at best, before she finished off her glass. “It _was_ years ago. We shouldn’t blame each other.”

“Say…” Her voice had a certain fragility to it that aroused immediate concern in Cloud. His mental defenses now raised a second time in one evening. “Do you…remember our promise?”

_“Whenever I’m in a pinch, my hero will rescue me. I want to at least experience that once.”_

Immediately, Cloud nodded. “I do. Why do you ask?”

“Well…”

“Mind if I have another drink? No offense, but I feel more comfortable catching up with you than total strangers.”

“Oh, sure thing.” _He’s pretty blunt tonight!_

They didn’t have much time to really chat the past 3 days of their little reunion. Cloud busily helped around her bar or was off running errands. It couldn't be helped, due to his gratitude for Tifa’s generous board—her spare upstairs bedroom and hot meals included.

“Um, Cloud. Weren’t _you…_ usually alone?”

He looked up from his strong drink, visibly offended. “Excuse me?”

Tifa flushed in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. He continued sipping away one of her specialties she made just for him. “I mean, when we were growing up. I don’t remember much of you playing hide and seek with us? Or _…_ anything like that. You got into plenty of fights, even with the older kids!”

Cloud’s gaze hardened. Immediately, he was chugging his drink with such ferocity that Tifa grew mildly concerned he’d start throwing things.

“…I had my reasons.”

_Didn’t I?_

**_I’m waiting. Always. For you._ **

He slumped forward, his half-finished glass almost shattering across the floor, if it hadn’t been for Tifa’s quick reflexes.

“Cloud?!”

* * *

Mako eyes slowly fluttering open, Cloud recognized the ceiling of the spare bedroom he’d slept in these past few nights. The guest room above the bar. The tiny upstairs hallway lead to a bathroom at the end, with Tifa’s room was across from Cloud’s. The mattress wasn’t as soft as his bed back in Nibelheim—the mattress apparently pretty old, according to Tifa—but, it worked. The Buster Sword lay safe and sound against the nightstand. Heavy as hell, but Tifa managed to lug it up the stairs after ensuring Cloud still rested comfortably in bed.

“Mh, Tifa…? What’s up?”

Out of the fuzzy corner of an eye, it appeared the barmaid suddenly straightened up. Sitting near the foot of his bed. He could’ve sworn he felt her hand caress his face, but...that couldn’t be it.

“Feeling any better? You suddenly passed out!”

“Fine, I guess. Where are the others?” He shifted about within the soft bed, flicker of shame crossing his face.

“They already went home.”

Home. To their families. 2 things that neither himself or Tifa had anymore, assuming each other didn’t count. Cloud sighed in self-exasperation, ignoring that sudden lump in his throat.

Tifa cocked her head to the side, concerned for whatever silent emotion suddenly welled up within him.

“I can’t explain what came over me just now, but I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out.”

“It’s fine, Cloud.” Scooting closer so her hip bumped against his knee, Tifa shook her head, eyes serious. “Whatever problems you’re dealing with, let’s solve them together, okay?”

“I dunno. I don’t even know what’s going on with these weird headaches I’ve been getting.”

“Hm.” _It worries me, too. But as long as we have each other to lean on, can’t we fix anything?_

Their eyes locking, Tifa was entranced by his pretty emerald bits of Mako. She couldn’t say she _didn’t_ find him attractive, having thought about Cloud a lot since he left home 7 years before, in his sudden, snap decision, hopes to join Soldier. Sitting in Cloud’s place was a frightened fourteen year old wearing a ponytail. She sighed at the sad mental image.  _That_ Cloud didn’t return until 3 days ago. In the boy’s place was a halfway delirious yet physically strong warrior.

Deeply troubling, but what could she even begin to do? Her dangling earrings caught the dim light of the guest room lamp. Ironically powered by Shinra, Inc—she’d have to replace the flickering light bulb soon.

Cloud maintained eye contact. Happily, his expression was almost serene. “You’ve…always been my best friend, Tif. It’s only right to treat you with more respect.”

Salty tears stung the corners of her eyes, similar to the lump in Cloud’s throat. Strong emotional reactions weren’t the least bit surprising, considering the razing of their hometown.

“Cloud, thanks for caring.” Were her reddening cheeks _too_ obvious? “Things’ll get tough from here on out if Shinra’s Soldier program catches wind of our activities. And I know you don’t want to tie yourself down to any one job right now, _but_ …”

“Yeah. There’s somewhere I have to be.”

_Cloud mumbled something about going far away that day I found him, too. Before the color returned to his cheeks after a hot meal and shower. Where could he be going, in his condition?!_

“L-look, all I’m saying is, if Soldier hunts Avalanche down, we’ll need all the help we can get. Can’t you stay, just for another mission or two? No worries, I’ll talk to Barret and make sure he doubles your pay.”

Surprisingly, Cloud laughed. “Tonight was more than enough proof they wouldn’t stand a chance without me if Soldier showed up. I’ll stick around.”

Dark ruby orbs clouded in confusion. There were deep questions Tifa simply _couldn’t_ bring herself to ask. In equal parts heart-stopping fear and offering respect towards whatever mental ailment her beloved silently struggled from.

Perhaps an articulate, silver haired, demon _was_ what threatened to tear them apart? Stranger things happened out there, considering Sephiroth’s utterly mad destruction of their home.

“Hey, Cloud? About my question earlier…”

He sat upright with crossed arms. “About our promise? I won’t leave you hanging like that. We’re friends, right?”

 _So_ that’s  _why he’ll…_

Tifa’s warm smile caused Cloud’s own to grow in turn. Their silent connection comforted his soul in a way the quilt covering his body—possibly knitted by Tifa herself—couldn’t.


End file.
